Work Text:
Parrot sat heavily on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the stone wall in front of him.
It had been exactly one year since that day. One year since he died. One year since he left the server, never to be seen again.
Parrot squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to force the memories down, but every stray thought relentlessly dragged him back to his former best friend. He remembered the boy who was kind, brilliant, and very smart—before the whole director’s incident happened.
Parrot let out a slow, shaky sigh. No, not today, he told himself.
He had promised Spoke he would make it to the clearing in the woods. The voidling had been begging for a big family reunion for weeks, desperate to get the brothers together since none of them had spoken in months. Slowly, forcing his heavy limbs to move, Parrot stood up to get ready.
But as he caught his reflection in the mirror, he froze. His eyes were painfully puffy and red.
Wait, what?
He blinked, and fresh tear tracks immediately spilled down his cheeks. When had he even started crying?
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit him. His surroundings spun, tearing his thoughts away. Clutching his head in his hands, Parrot collapsed back onto the mattress, his vision blurring into darkness.
Through the haze, the figure of a dark-haired boy appeared in front of him. It was Wifies.
There was no mistaking him. He wore the familiar gray hoodie with the yin-yang symbol in the center. But as he stared down at Parrot, there was no warmth in those eyes. There were cold, hollow, and unblinking.
Parrot griped his hair tightly as he sat up on the bed. His breathing broke down into heavy pants. His eyes became watery again as his gaze locked onto Wifies’s hands.
The spyglass.
It was the same spyglass Parrot had given him back when they first met, right after completing the first task Spoke had given them. He remembered the exact look of confusion on Wifies’s face when he handed it over, holding it in his hands looking at it before smiling at Parrot and telling him that he appreciates the gift.
Then, the memory changed. Parrot saw his own trembling hands clutched around that very same spyglass, the one Wifies dropped to him before being chunkbanned.
The memory broke him. Parrot fell back onto the mattress, curling in on himself as a sob torn from his throat. He couldn't stop the tears. It was always Wifies. He tried to think of anything else—the kingdom, the paperwork, the reunion—but every path in his mind led straight back to the boy in the yin-yang hoodie.
Clenching his trembling hands into fists, he buried his face into the blanket. How was he supposed to get over it? This was his best friend. The person who had cared for him, protected him, and fought by his side. And he was dead because Parrot hadn't been strong enough to convince him to change.
All those horrible days stuck in that prison, trying his best to convince Wifies to change but Parrot still couldn't bring back the Wifies he used to know. All he could do was watch helplessly as Wifies looked back at him, eyes with tears, as he spoke:
"Please, Parrot, please... Give that to me, before you hurt yourself."
A gasp caught in Parrot's throat as the final, devastating echo of that day rang through his ears, the last words he had said to him before leaving him there to die by the tnt:
"It’s all yours."
Parrot pulled the blanket tightly around his shoulders, shivering as his heart hammered aggressively against his ribs. He held his head, suffocating under the weight of grief for someone who was never coming back.
⋆.˚✮ ☽ ☯︎ ☾ ✮˚.⋆
Out in the dense forest, Spoke sat lazily on a checkered mat, watching the tops of the trees move in the wind.
The leaves rustled softly in the gentle wind, accompanied by the bright, peaceful chirping of birds. Sunlight filtered through the thick branches, casting dancing patches of gold across the forest floor. Spoke hummed a quiet tune to himself until the loud, distinct sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts.
It was two sets of footsteps.
Spoke scrambled to his feet, a brilliant grin lighting up his face as two figures stepped into the clearing: his older brothers, Flame and Wemmbu.
Spoke immediately began waving his arms enthusiastically at them. Flame groaned under his breath in annoyance, while Wemmbu just smirked, slowing his pace. The moment they were within arm's reach, Spoke threw himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around them both and burying his head between their shoulders.
Wemmbu chuckled, effortlessly returning the embrace and wrapping a solid arm around Spoke’s back. Flame stood still for a moment, looking awkward and completely unsure of what to do with his hands.
Eventually, with a soft sigh, Flame let his guard down, bringing his arms around Spoke and resting his chin against his younger brother's shoulder.
They stayed like that for a moment. It really had been ages since they last stood in the same room, let alone held each other.
Spoke squeezed tighter, snuggling closer into the warmth. Wemmbu reached up, affectionately ruffling Spoke's messy hair, while Flame offered a few awkward but grounding pats on his back. Flame had never been good with showing his emotions, but he hoped that this gesture was enough to show how deeply he had missed his brothers—even if Spoke was incredibly annoying most of the time.
Pulling away at last, Spoke beamed up at them. "I really missed you guys so much!"
Wemmbu’s lips twitched upward into a genuine smile. "We missed you too, Spokey."
Flame gave a quiet nod, adjusting his collar to hide his softened expression.
Spoke then proceeded to drag his older brothers over to the mat, and the three of them sat down. He proudly pulled out four sandwiches, that he had forced Mapicc to make since he nearly burned the kitchen down trying to toast the bread himself.
Wemmbu took his sandwich and began devouring it hungrily. Flame hesitated, eyeing the bread suspiciously before reluctantly accepting it from Spoke’s hand.
They ate in a comfortable silence, the cool breeze washing over them and easing the tension of the past few months. But the peace didn't last long. Flame suddenly sat up straight, his sharp eyes scanning the clearing. He searched for the entrance of the forest and the tall trees above, his brow furrowing.
"Isn't Parrot supposed to be here by now?" Flame asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Spoke looked up, meeting his brother's gaze. Even beneath Flame's blindfold that hid his every emotion, the worry was obvious.
Wemmbu paused mid-bite, looking around the empty woods. "Yeah, you're right. Parrot should've been here before any of us. He’s never late."
A knot in Spoke's stomach twisted. As the oldest, Parrot was easily the most responsible one out of the four of them. It wasn't like him to keep them waiting. But then again, the weight of an entire kingdom rested on his shoulders so he's probably busy with work. "Maybe something came up? He is the king, you know. He has a ton of royal responsibilities to take care of."
Flame and Wemmbu exchanged a troubled glance.
"I mean, yeah, but...if he was going to be late, he should've sent someone by now to inform us." Flame muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the forest path, praying his older brother would appear safely through the trees.
Wemmbu crossed his arms, shifting his weight uneasily. "Exactly. Parrot wouldn't just leave us hanging out here in the open. Something is definitely wrong."
Spoke’s eyes darted between the two of them, the knot in his stomach tightening. He wanted to argue, to offer up another logical excuse to keep the peace between them for longer, but the heavy silence settling over the courtyard made it impossible.
"So, what do we do?" Spoke asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We can't just storm the castle looking for him."
Wemmbu let out a low, frustrated breath. "Let's just wait then for him. I'm sure he'll come back soon enough."
The other two nodded anxiously as they finished their sandwiches.
The three brothers now sat in a tense silence as the birds continued to chirp around them. Ten minutes passed by. Then fifteen. Still, there was no sign of Parrot.
"Alright, that’s it. I’m going to go find him." Flame snapped, standing up abruptly. He re-adjusted his sword at his hip and began marching toward the kingdom.
Wemmbu and Spoke exchanged a look before sighing in unison. Without a word, they got off the mat and hurried into the trees, following close behind Flame to go find their brother.
⋆.˚✮ ☽ ☯︎ ☾ ✮˚.⋆
Back in the royal chambers, Parrot was completely broken.
His golden-brown locks fell messily across his face, obscuring his eyes that were red and swollen from hours of weeping. His clothes were completely disheveled, and the silver yin-yang necklace hung loosely against his collarbone, entirely exposed. His breathing had finally leveled out, but his chest still ached. He remained curled on the bed, too emotionally exhausted to move.
Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor could be heard. It wasn't just one person; there were multiple people approaching.
Theo. Theo must have brought the royal guards with him to check on him. It had been at least two hours since Parrot had locked himself away, and Theo must be fuming right now, clearly worried about his best friend.
Forcing himself up, Parrot tried his best to smooth down his royal, crumpled coat and fix his hair. He wiped his face hurriedly with a tissue, staring into the mirror to inspect himself.
It’s fine. It looks decent.
It was just Theo out there. Theo might notice the heavy, dark circles under his eyes, but that was easy to explain. Theo knew Parrot regularly pulled all-nighters. He could just visually reference last night, when Theo had practically begged him to go to bed while Parrot insisted on finishing some kind of paperwork that kings normally do.
Theo knew how exhausted he was. He would just assume the king was burnt out.
The footsteps came to a sudden halt right outside his door. A firm knock followed.
Parrot took one last deep breath to steady his voice, braced his shoulders, and put on a practiced smile onto his face to appease Theo. He opened the door expecting a yellow bird looking at him angrily.
Instead, the door swung back to reveal a bright looking Spoke beaming at him.
"Parrot! There you are!" Spoke beamed, his entire posture practically vibrating with relief and dynamic energy. "Bro, we thought you got kidnapped by a snake or something! You didn’t show up to the picnic dude!"
Parrot froze, his hand still glued to the doorknob. His mind blanked, the carefully constructed "tired king" excuse evaporating into thin air. Behind Spoke, the hallway wasn't filled with the armored, disciplined figures of his royal guards. Standing a few paces back were Flame and Wemmbu.
Flame had his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in a scowl that shifted into genuine concern the moment he locked eyes with his oldest brother. Wemmbu leaned against the stone wall, his usual smirk disappearing as he took in Parrot's appearance.
"Whoa," Wemmbu said softly, stepping forward. "Bro... you look like you just fought a warden with your bare hands."
"I—" Parrot's voice cracked. He quickly cleared his throat, panic spiking through his chest. He subconsciously pulled the collar of his shirt up, trying to hide the yin-yang necklace resting against his collarbone. He had forgotten entirely about the picnic. “I'm sorry. I lost track of time. Royal paperwork, you know how it gets—"
"Parrot," Flame interrupted, his voice dropping dangerously low as he walked past Spoke, ignoring the voidling's confused blinking.
Flame stopped just a foot away, his sharp eyes scanning Parrot’s face. The uneven hair, the unmistakable puffiness around his eyes, the faint, dried tear tracks that the tissue hadn't fully erased. "You're lying. Your eyes are bloodshot."
"I just didn't sleep well," Parrot insisted, his heart hammering aggressively against his ribs again. The dizziness from earlier threatened to return. He couldn't do this right now. Not in front of them. "Seriously guys, go back to the clearing. I'll change and meet you there in ten—"
"You've been crying," Spoke said, his cheerful demeanor dropping instantly. The childish excitement vanished, replaced by a rare, unsettling seriousness. He looked down at Parrot's hands, which were trembling slightly against the doorframe. "Is... is it about that day?"
The room went dead silent.
None of them explicitly said the name. They didn't need to. The weight of a dropped spyglass, the echo of a final, tragic compromise, and the memory of a friend who chose death over reality hung heavily in the air between the four brothers.
Wemmbu sighed, stepping into the room and gently placing a hand on Parrot's shoulder, forcing the king to look at him. "We're not going back to the clearing, Parrot. The reunion can happen right here. You don't have to lie to us bro."
The weight of Wemmbu’s hand on his shoulder felt less like a grounding anchor and more like the final snap of a frayed rope.
Parrot wanted to pull away. He wanted to straighten his posture, flash that reliable, unwavering "King of the Server" smile, and tell them he was completely fine. But his knees felt like water. The images of Wifies—cold-eyed, gray hoodie, holding that stupid spyglass—flickered in his vision, overlapping with the worried faces of his brothers.
"I'm fine," Parrot choked out, though the raw, broken pitch of his voice betrayed him instantly. "I just... I forgot the time. I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean to ruin the reunion."
"Ruin it?" Spoke’s voice cracked, a rare wave of vulnerability breaking through his usual chaotic persona. He stepped fully into the room, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. "Parrot, look at you. You’re shaking. If you think a stupid picnic matters more to us than this, then you're an idiot."
Parrot tried his best to come up with another lie on spot, but something grabbed Parrot by the coat, and dragged him backward—not roughly, but with an unyielding force—right back toward the bed. It was Flame.
Parrot didn't even fight it. He let himself be guided, collapsing onto the edge of the mattress.
Wemmbu sat down right next to him, the bed dipping under his weight, while Spoke immediately dropped to the floor, sitting down at his legs and resting his chin on top of his knees, looking up at Parrot with wide, anxious eyes. Flame remained standing for a moment, looking around the messy room, before he pulled up a stray wooden chair, turned it backward, and sat down, resting his arms on the backrest.
They had completely surrounded him. There was no escape. No paperwork to hide behind, no Theo to intercede.
"It's been exactly a year, hasn't it?" Wemmbu asked quietly, his eyes drifting down to the exposed yin-yang necklace around Parrot's neck.
Parrot’s fingers instantly flew to the necklace, clutching it so hard the metal edges bit into his palm. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that was a mistake—closing his eyes only brought back the dark-haired boy, the blinding flash of the explosion, and the death message.
A ragged, shuddering breath escaped Parrot’s lips. "I tried to fix him," he whispered, finally breaking. The tears spilled over his eyelashes, fresh and hot, cutting through the dried salt marks on his cheeks. "In the prison... I talked to him every day. I begged him. I told him we could fix it, that the server didn't have to be like this. But he just... didn’t listen."
Spoke reached out, his hands on top of Parrots, giving it a squeeze. "Wifies was too far gone, bro. He changed after he became the director. It wasn't your fault."
"He asked me to give it to him!" Parrot yelled suddenly, his voice echoing loudly in the enclosed bedroom. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed openly now, completely stripped of his royal dignity. "He looked at me with tears in his eyes and asked me to give him the spyglass before I hurt myself. He was still trying to protect me, even when he was destroying everything! And I just stood there. I let him do it. I watched him disappear."
The room swallowed his grief, heavy and suffocating.
Flame stared at his older brother, his fist clenching tightly against the back of the chair. For all of Flame's rough exterior and annoyance at Spoke's antics, seeing Parrot—the unbreakable pillar of their family—shattered into pieces was a different kind of pain. He stood up, walked over to the bed, and sat on Parrot's other side.
Without a word, Flame reached out, wrapped a heavy arm around Parrot’s shoulders, and pulled him in.
Parrot stiffened in shock. Flame never initiated physical contact. But the solid, warm weight of his brother was too much to resist. Parrot leaned into Flame's side, hiding his face against Flame's shoulder as he wept, his hands clutching the fabric of his brother's clothes.
Wemmbu shifted closer, leaning his forehead against Parrot’s shoulder, while Spoke reached up, hugging from the front.
"You're the king, Parrot, but you're not a god," Wemmbu murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You can't save everyone. You couldn't save him from himself."
"We're your brothers," Flame muttered into Parrot's hair, his grip tightening, fierce and protective. "You carry the weight of his death while taking care of server every single day. But today? You don't have to carry anything. Let us hold it for a bit for you."
Parrot cried even more now until his throat was raw, until his ribs ached, and until the image of the gray hoodie finally faded from his mind, replaced by the suffocating, messy, fiercely loyal warmth of the three brothers who refused to leave him behind in the dark.
Outside the door, Theo lifted his head back from the door as he heard Parrot’s breathing evening out, snuggling deeper into his brother’s hold. He hummed, proud of himself for letting those idiots into the castle to take care of his best friend.
He took one last look at the closed door before turning on his heel, heading off to finish the errand Parrot had assigned him earlier.